Silent Reign
by Homestarluver201
Summary: A little doodly I wrote while depressed, I guesss. Tycho and Gabe go on a case and only one of them comes back. Second chapter coming soon! :D


**(A/N Oh goodie! One of my very first Precipice of Darkness fanfics! Since there's no separate category for this game, I decided to stick this little fic in with the Penny Arcade section. For obvious reasons. So...here you go! Enjoy your tears of empathy and I'll write the second chapter soon! :D)**

Nighttime was always usually silent in the Startling Developments Detective Agency building, even when two people still occupied the small space. But this silence was different; there were no more occasional shudders of papers as pages were turned in an ancient, yellowing book. No more blows were heard thrown violently at the punching bag strung up on the ceiling on the other side of the desk. There were no more scratching noises of quill on parchment; no more befuddled hums at complicated words.

Bookshelves and tables stood in the small office space, covering all four walls of the room. Books, mason jars, stray pages of parchment and even small treasures sat in between the wooden spaces, some even hung on the wall in great view of whatever person happened to walk in.

The Brute stood by the large oak desk, staring condescendingly down at the limp parchment and ink lying there, gathering dust. He would never touch them, he knew it. Preserving the office as it was before the accident was all that mattered anymore.

Of course, almost everything in that office besides him gathered dust, even after the quiet began.

Although he'd never admit it to the ignorant passerby, Gabriel missed the company. He missed the crinkling of papers and the punching bag and the scratching quill and the befuddled hums. But mostly…

He missed the talking.

Along with the crinkling papers, punching bag, scratching quill and befuddled hums, there would often be some quiet explanations and clarifications of several individual words or phrases. Not only education processes could be heard from the small office, however, but conversations and likeliness's of the sort.

The two men would often converse on the subject of many strange things. For example, how one would go about exterminating a chimera, or if anyone had seen the tome of ancient incantations left on the desk the previous morning. Sometimes, they'd speak of the past.

Like when the subject of fights was brought up, Gabriel would be reminded of the tremendous loss he faced several years ago during his prize fight with the Devil himself. How that dirty dog cheated and left Gabriel out of a profession _and_ a hobby.

Now, when the subject of fights crossed his feeble mind, all that floated in and out of his ears was the jarring roar of the loathsome creature he'd faced days earlier, followed soon by the shouts from his beloved boss to 'find the spell' or 'throw this' and 'throw that' up to him. Most of the battle was incoherent to Gabriel, until the last few moments.

After a seemingly glorious shout of victory from the Scholar as he threw his fist in the air, a rumpled limb from the ominous creature (thought to be long-dead) shot up and seized the mentioned hand of the Scholar and in a flash, dragged it downward with a mighty tug and brought the entire man down to the ground.

Wincing, the Brute clenched his teeth in remembrance of those final moments, all of which had seemed like hours. Oh, how he'd tried to save his boss. Not only his boss, but his best friend as well.

The last noises of the fight raged on inside his skull, forming a barrier towards all good thoughts and filling the space with more ragged pain.

Deafeningly, the last cadaverous cries of the Scholar had been punctuated by the sickening sound of bones snapping, flesh tearing, and blood leaking, until there was nothing left but a horrendously disfigured pile of limp tissue and bone fragments.

The rest of the body was sickeningly devoured by the creature, who stalked off with only a few scratches.

That was, until Gabriel began sprinting at the mighty thing with his fist drawn back in a horrendous rage. The Brute brought his entire force of strength down on that great beast like there was no tomorrow.

Blows came down upon that horrible creature, punch by punch and within moments, Gabriel's blind fury dissolved with the drops of rain that began falling.

The Brute clenched his teeth even tighter and tears welled up in his eyes, beginning to fall like the rain that previously soaked him to the bone as he remembered running back to the scene.

Blood is thicker than water, and washes away just as easily. The adrenaline had evaporated, and Gabriel had fallen limp to the asphalt, tears streaming down his cheeks as he witnessed the remains of a previous life washed down the street. The dark red puddle had vanished into a nearby storm drain, as if nothing had happened that day.

Now, nothing else remained of that day besides the memory of the screams and protests that had taken place.

Silence took its own reign inside the office once again and Gabriel shivered. It hadn't been this cold in a long time.

The candles hadn't been lit, and neither had the oil lamp. The entire space was dark, save for the early morning light now drifting through the window. Unaware was Gabriel that he'd stayed up all night, brooding about his boss's death until the sun rose.

All that was left to do now was return to the ring and reclaim his title, but Gabriel no longer had the strength. Not strength as in physical ability, but meaning emotional strength and spirit to continue.

The first person he'd ever met who was genuinely nice to him, not just getting him to beat a horrendous beast but giving him a place to live and food to eat, was gone and there was nothing he was allowed to do about it.

As these thoughts chorused in his head, Gabriel's eyes drifted from the desktop to one of the many bookshelves lining the walls. Through an abundance of tears, he was able to read the spine of a dark blue book.

_Libri of Silenti etc._

Struggling for a moment, Gabriel remembered what little of the Latin language Tycho was able to teach him. He squinted at the book title and through his head came…

_Book of the Dead._

He had one chance.


End file.
